The Woman He Loves
by Mad.Impossible.Amelia.Pond
Summary: (Alternate universe) Amelia Pond is a kissogram, and when her life is in danger, a man called John Smith(Ten) shows up and changes her life. They fall in love, and Amy wakes up. What will Ten and Amelia sacrifice to come back together? And possibly most important, is it meant to be? Does the universe agree about their love?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter one  
Murder in leadworth, strange man.

The door closed as she walked away from the house, wiping her lips. What a disgusting job she had, Kissogram. Just because it was her job going from house to house delivering kisses from loved ones, everyone thought of her as the 'town whore', or the 'town slut'. It didn't help she wore a miniskirt all the time.  
"Oi, miss! Mind givin' me a kiss?" Amy turned her head to face the voice, but kept walking. Seeing the town drunk, she waves cheerfully at him. "Sorry Pete! Not today." Turning her head back to the direction she was walking, she curled her lip up in disgust. _Never ever. That man's absolutely disgusting. I don't know how Shera manages to live with him._  
"Amy!" her ex's voice filled the air, footsteps running behind her. She rolled her eyes as the nurse stopped in front of her, halting her.  
"Amy, please. I need your help." Rory's face was urgent, and Amy paid attention, realizing this was nothing about their broken relationship.  
"Miss Buck down the street from you, she's been stabbed."  
"Well, what can I do?" Amy threw her hands in the air. "I can't do anything! I'm not a nurse!"  
"No, but you help keep things calm when it gets all riled up. I need you there to help her pass." Rory snapped back, it was obvious he was in a hurry. Reluctant, Amy nodded, and dashed after Rory over to the ambulance waiting nearby. The millisecond they closed the door behind them, the driver set forward quickly, sending Amy and Rory stumbling back into their seats, almost knocking over the bandages and gauze.  
They sat there in awkward silence as they went pretty-much 90 mph. Fortunately Miss Buck's house wasn't far, and they were soon jumping out the back and running into the house. When Amy saw the blood covering the floor, her hands went to her mouth to stop herself from gagging. Rory and the others pushed past her and knelt by the dying woman, who had managed to call them. Taking a deep breath, Amy went and knelt by Miss Buck, taking her old schoolmate's head and put it in her lap.  
"It's going to be allright, Kathy. Rory knows what he's doing."  
"Get away from me, you whore! If I'm going over to the other side, I'm not going to go with my head in a whore's lap!" Miss Buck practically snarled, then immediately crying out in pain from the outburst. Amy had stumbled back in surprise at the yelling, falling straight back into the sticky blood. Grimacing, she scrambled to stand up. Walking towards the door, she turned and faced Miss Buck one last time.  
"I'm still a virgin, Kathy. Much more than can be said for you."  
Kathy's eyes went wide with indignation, but Amy was already gone, walking down the street to her house, shuddering at the blood, already drying on her skin. When she got to her house, she entered it gratefully, and went into the bathroom immediately, stripping off her clothes and throwing them in the trash. Climbing into the steaming shower, she let the pure water run over her, washing off the blood. She stood there until it was all gone before she shut off the show and walked out, shivering at the icy air. Grabbing her warm, fluffy towel, she dried off before grabbing for her bathrobe. Wrapping it around her, she exited the steamy room, skipped downstairs and went into the kitchen, opening the fridge. It was empty, except for the odd cheese and cucumber. Sighing, she closed that and opened the freezer above her, peering in. Smiling, she pulled out the ice cream and set it on the table, prying off the lip. Grabbing a spoon and grabbing the icy container, she went upstairs to the loft, where she kept her extra sofa, extra bed, extra tv, and her cable set.  
It was where she spent most of her days. It was almost like a fairytale, the colorful lights scattering across the room, thanks to the sunlight through the stained glass windows. She turned on the TV and curled into the corner of her sofa, watching the shows quietly, eating ice cream and forgetting how awful her life was.  
And how awfully, awfully big this house could feel with just her inside of it.

A week passed, with a murder happening every night, this time everyone was dead before the ambulance and police showed up, and Amy shuddered as she read the paper. It was only happening on her street, and from the order and look of things, it was her turn to die tonight.  
"Well," she muttered, setting down the paper, "I'm going to have an absolutely wonderful time today before my death tonight." Going over to her recently restocked fridge, she examined the food inside of it. Grabbing a jug of custard, and two cakes she'd baked the day before, she set them on the table and slathered custard all over the first cake, then set the next cake on top of it, and slathered custard all over that one. Setting the finished masterpiece back into the fridge, she took the scraps of cake and custard and wiped them all into the sink, thinking she'd leave them there for someone else to figure out once she was gone. Grabbing the custard carton, she took a long, deep gulp of the stuff and wiped her mouth after, getting the exess stuff off. She was running up the stairs when she heard the doorbell ring.  
"Ugh! It's my last day alive!" Amy screamed down to the door. "Let me be!" when the doorbell rang again, she took a swig of custard and swished it around her mouth before swallowing as she ran down the stairs and over to the door. Opening it, she raised her eyebrows as she saw a man standing there, smiling brightly at her, suitcase in his hand.  
"Can I help you?" Amy's voice was impatient, and far colder than she'd meant it to be.  
"No. But I can help you. Leadworth police sent me here. They want me to stay here and protect you until they catch the murderer."  
"I'm fine, really." Amy tried to close the door, but the man ducked in a second before it slammed shut.  
"Oi! My house! Get out!" Amy glared at him. He shook his head, an obviously faked frown on his face. "Can't. It's imperative in the universe that you don't die. You're a fixed point waiting to happen, Amelia Pond."  
"I don't think I understood anything of what you just said." Amy furrowed her brows and took a sip of the custard.  
"That's fine. Where," the man glanced around, "Should I put my stuff and stay the night?"  
"I never said you could." Amy put her right hand on her hip, her left hand holding the custard.  
"The Leadworth governer said I could." he retorted, a bit saucily.  
"I say no. But I guess that doesn't matter to anyone." Amy clenched her lips and pointed to the left. "On that couch." Once he put his stuff down, he crossed over to her. "I'm John Smith. Nice to meet you." he grinned as he held out his hand. Amy took it and shook it briefly before letting go and running up the stairs.  
"Bathroom's two doors down on the right from the kitchen. I'm going upstairs."  
"Fine."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO  
Break-in at the Pond house

It was midnight when the crashes and scuffles woke her up. Amy jumped out of bed quickly, and literally flew down the stairs, grabbing her cricket bat on the way. Stopping at the end, she stared as she saw John and a masked person wrestling on the floor, too-well matched. John got on top, swung a blow, then the person got on top and punched John in the face, and when the fist drew from John's face, blood started to run from John's nose, startling Amy into action. Amy leapt down and swung the cricket bat, bringing it down with a loud crack on the masked person's back, making them cry out in pain. Scrambling up, the person grabbed their knife with their gloved hand and ran out of the house, slamming the door behind them.  
Panting, Amy stood there for a minute just staring at the door, then a cough brought her attention to John, who was still lying on the floor, blood and bruises covering him.  
"John!" Amy gasped and hurried over to him, taking his head gently in her hands, almost sobbing at the sight of a hurt man on her floor.  
_It reminded her of…no. she mustn't think of it._  
"John! Stop it!" Amy slapped his face as the man nodded off.  
"Ow!" the shriek of pain filled the air, lifting her spirits as John sat up quickly, bring his hand up to his reddening cheek. When his eyes looked down, then elsewhere, avoiding looking at her, Amy realized was she was wearing. It was only a thin, see-through long top that separated her bra and knickers from his eyes. Uncomfortable, she slid behind him and helped him stand up, ignoring his groans. She helped him into the bathroom and sat him on the toilet cover as she leaned over to turn on the bath. Going over to the sink, she reached into the mirror cabinet and grabbed a washcloth and some soap. Running the washcloth under warm water and put a bit of soap on it. Taking John's chin in her left hand and lifting up his head, she touched the washcloth to his black eye, murmuring soothing words as he winced under the harsh, soapy water.  
"Hey," Amy whispered, wiping the last of the blood off his face gently, "You're all done." she threw the washcloth in the sink and took a different washcloth and put it under cold water, then ran it gently all over John's face, smiling as the man gave a sigh of relief.  
"Oh that feels so much better than hot water and soap." John breathed.  
Amy chuckled, and when the cloth started losing its cold, she threw it in the sink. Taking John's hands in hers, she put her forehead gently to his and smiled. "Thanks for saving my life."  
John laughed. "Thanks for saving mine."  
"It was quite easy." Amy shrugged, and laughed at John's impertinent look. "Tell you what. Climb in the bath, and when you're done, come into the kitchen."  
John nodded. "Fine."  
Amy closed the bathroom door behind her, and ran upstairs to her room to put something a bit more covering on. Stripping off her shirt, she slipped on pajama pants and a tank top, then ran back down the stairs, avoiding the cricket bat and the few sticky splotches of blood, and ran into the kitchen. Taking the cake out from the fridge, she set it on the counter and took out her longest knife. Cutting two pieces, both quite big, took out forks, and stuck them in the cake. Putting the main cake back into the fridge, she put the pieces on the table and went over to her kettle, pouring water into it and turning it on.  
John came into the kitchen before the kettle had finished boiling the water, and his footsteps startled Amy. Turning around, Amy smiled at him. He smiled back, back in his pajamas.  
"There's some cake there. I'm making some tea. What kind of tea do you want?"  
"Earl Grey?"  
"Will do." Amy turned and put the teabag in a blue mug and put another one in her mug. The kettle whistled, and Amy poured the boiling water into the cups and brought them over to the table, handing the blue mug to John. He took it gratefully.  
"You're doing very well, considering you just saw the murderer of all your neighbors almost kill someone in your house." he commented, staring at her intensely.  
She shrugged. "I'm constantly laughed at, scorned, and insulted. Seeing someone almost be killed under my roof isn't too far from what I go through daily.  
John narrowed his eyes. "Why do you get such bad treatment?"  
"I'm a kissogram." Amy leaned back in her chair, realizing with surprise that she hoped John wouldn't be put off by that fact. "And because of that, everyone thinks I'm a prostitute."  
"And are you?" the question surprised Amy, and her head snapped up, a harsh edge to her voice as she replied. "No." John smiled. "Good."  
Amy narrowed her eyes at him. "I have no idea who you are. Other than you're some police guy in my house who saved my life and took a bath."  
"Not much to tell." John sighed. "I travel, mostly."  
"Where've you been?"  
"Oh, you know. London, Utah, New York, Scotland, and tons of other places you wouldn't believe."  
"Like what, for instance?"  
"Like mars, the moon, caveman era, met William Shakespeare, and occasionally I like to go to Akhaten."  
Raising her eyebrows at his answer, he just laughed. "I figured you wouldn't believe me."  
"Because it's rubbish." Amy let her lips fall into a slight pout before she took a sip of her tea.  
"It's the truth."  
"Yeah, right." Amy smirked. They ate and drank in silence, and when their stuff was eaten and drunk, they put the dishes in the dishwasher and went into the hallway. When John started to go into the living room back onto that uncomfortable couch, Amy smiled.  
"Oi, Smith." John turned and raised an eyebrow, making Amy stifle her laughter.  
"Yes, Pond?"  
"Come upstairs. That couch is way uncomfortable, especially for when you're in this state, Mister. Come with me and we'll spend all night watching TV. Sound good?"  
John tilted his head, looked up for a second, then shrugged. "Why not." he climbed up the stairs behind her, and Amy led the way up three flights of stairs to her loft paradise.  
Once they stood in the entrance to the lovely room, Amy turned to see John's reaction. He stood there staring, as if he was seeing the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.  
And it was gorgeous. With the pink low-lights, and all the spotted colors from the moonlight hitting the stained glass windows, it was an absolutely heaven-like area. Her bed was just plain violet, but with all the colors in the room, it shone gold and green and blue all at once, the tiny mirrors on the ceiling reflecting the gorgeous lights everywhere at once.  
"Gorgeous, isn't it?"  
"Absolutely." John sounded breathless and Amy laughed. He glanced at her indignantly, then followed as she led the way over to the couch, sprinkled colors all over them.  
Throwing a blanket over to John, Amy reached back over to the side of the couch and grabbed herself a blanket and the remote and turned on the TV.  
And then all of a sudden, she couldn't remember how, but she was up against the wall, fiercely kissing John who was running his hands around her shoulders and hair.  
Running her hands through his hair, she leaned back to catch her breath, and he stared at her.  
"I don't know what happened."  
"Neither do I." Glancing over at the couch, however, it was pretty obvious. They'd glanced at each other, and just threw themselves at each other, tearing, ripping at each other fiercely, standing up in the midst of it and somehow crashed into the wall. But that didn't matter. They were already back to kissing and tearing at each other. They made their way to the bed and tumbled around, John on top, then Amy, then John. Sooner or later though, Amy got on top and she stood on her knees above him, gasping for breath, lips and the area around them swollen from John's expert kisses. Tearing off her shirt, she threw it to the ground and unhooked her bra, throwing it off to the side. Her pants and knickers had already been thrown onto the floor, along with John's clothes.  
When she fell back down onto him, they writhed and kissed passionately, adding more colors to the room.

Birds chirped and sang as Amy slowly opened her eyes, yawning softly. Feeling a warm arm around her waist, connecting the two together, she realized John was there, and she remembered the night before with a feeling of satisfaction.  
Sighing, curling into his body a bit more, she let out a soft whimper as John began to stir. Turning over so their faces faced each other, Amy smiled at the man as he opened his gorgeous eyes.  
He smiled back and rubbed her arm affectionately. "Good morning." he whispered, sleepily. Amy put her forehead against his and replied softly. "Good Morning."  
"What time is it?" John yawned, and removed his forehead from hers briefly to stretch, and during those few seconds, Amy threw a glance at the clock behind her and was back in her position when he returned to his, their foreheads resting together. "It's one."  
"I've never done this before." John murmured.  
"Done what?" Amy lifted her eyes to look John in his.  
"I've never done this on the first night of knowing someone. Never ever. Never will again."  
Amy smiled, laughing softly. "I think it was just aftermath and feelings from saving each-other's lives."  
"Must've been." John murmured quietly, his eyes closed again. Then they shot open again, startling Amy. "Did you say it was one in the afternoon?"  
Amy sat up and stretched. "Yeah. I've got an appointment in an hour."  
"I've got to go tell the police about what happened last night." At Amy's darted glance, he quickly specified. "About the killer. Not what happened between us. That's private."  
Amy nodded and slithered to the edge of the bed, feeling peaceful and rested as she hooked on her bra and slid on her knickers. Standing up, she turned and saw John already in his boxers, pulling back the sheets. "I guess we've got to wash the sheets. I'll do it."  
Amy furrowed her brows. "Why?"  
"You've got an appointment to get to. I can tell the police anytime today. Just tell me where the washing machine and dryer are and I'll wash these."  
Amy smiled at him gratefully. "Thanks, John. I'm going to go take a shower, washing machine's on the second floor." John nodded, and as Amy walked started to walk down the stairs, she heard an exclaim of surprise and concern.  
"Amy! Come here!" Amy walked back over and bit her lip as John pointed to the blood on the sheets.  
"Are you alright?" he asked, utter fear and concern in his eyes. Amy smiled and nodded. She was a bit sore, of course, but that was to be expected after her first time.  
"Yeah. Just, you know, stuff." Amy shrugged and turned around, grimacing as she heard a sharp intake of breath from the man behind her. He had realized what had happened.  
"That was your first time." he whispered, causing her to turn around. "Yeah? What about it?"  
"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he seemed very nervous, hands shaking as he held the bloody sheets.  
"Nah. I was too caught up in the moment." Amy smiled at him reassuringly, glad he'd taken it so well and was concerned for her.  
"Okay." John replied, nodding as he bundled the sheets together. Amy continued down the stairs.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE  
Murderer revealed, love expressed

Three nights passed, and now Amy was saying goodbye to John. He had to leave, he said.  
"Why?" she held the door open, leaning her head against it, John holding his suitcase in one hand, his other on the doorway, leaning a bit, feet crossed lazily.  
"You're safe now, and the police want me somewhere else. I'm not going to do what they want anymore, though. I've got my own life to get back to. Traveling and stuff like that."  
Amy pouted a bit. Remembering the last few nights was painful and also wonderful, seeing her lover leave her.  
John laughed and leaned forward, kissing her one last time. Amy smiled in the middle of it, and deepened it. Reluctantly, the two parted and cast wistful glances at each other.  
"Hey," John looked as if a new idea had dawned on him. "Come if you like."  
Amy almost said yes, but then remembered the letter she'd gotten from her aunt. Her mother was in the hospital, dying. She'd never been close to her mother, but it was her duty to go and help her mother pass through. Pond tradition and all.  
"I can't." she whispered, sadness floating all around her. John smiled, his eyes understanding. He had seen the letter. He knew what she had to do. He turned and started walking down the path to the sidewalk, where a taxi was waiting for him.  
"Hey!" Amy called after him. He turned, eyes hopeful. "Am I ever going to see you again, John?" John shook his head sadly. "I don't know. I'll certaintly try and come back. But nothing ever goes as I plan."  
Amy nodded, a bit confused. "Bye then, John. Have a great life." she sent him off with a wave and her best smile, and a couple of tears, him doing the same for her. Once the taxi was gone, and her lover also, she ran into the house and up the flights of stairs to the loft, throwing herself onto the bed, taking deep whiffs of John's scent before it was gone forever. When it faded, she sighed and got up, slipping her shoes on, grabbed her own suitcase, and hurried out the door. She was going to be late. Jumping into her car, she started it and drove over to Rory's house, picked him up, and they started the 2 hour long drive to the hospital in London.  
After half an hour of awkward silence, and the middle of nowhere, Rory spoke, almost so foreign to Amy's ears that she could barely make it out.  
"So how did that guy do over at your house? I heard he was beat up pretty bad by that killer."  
"Yeah." Amy replied. "Really bad. I had to whack the killer with a cricket bat. He scrambled out of the house really fast after that."  
"The killer, or that guy?"  
"The killer, Rory. I sent John to bathe. He was pretty much sticky from bruises and blood. I made tea, we stayed up until one talking, then watched TV until three, I guess."  
"Nice." When Rory bent forward to put his phone into Amy's glove compartment, she noticed him wince as he put his back onto the seat again.  
"So what have you been doing? Your back seems hurt." Amy glanced over at Rory, grateful they'd managed to stay friends after their breakup.  
"Oh, you know. You were there." Rory replied.  
Amy furrowed her eyebrows, looking at him. His eyes were dark and it scared her. She looked around and saw a gas station, and looked at her gas tank, thanking God when she saw it was almost on E.  
"Was I? Was it at Miss Buck's house?" Amy pulled up next to the gas pump and opened her door, unbuckling.  
"No. It was at your house. About four nights ago. Midnight." Rory's eyes practically had flames in them as his head snapped over to glare at her, and her heart jumped in fear.  
"You're the killer?" she breathed.  
Producing a knife from his boot, Rory smiled at her, dangerously waving the knife in the air, then throwing it at her. Gasping, she barely scooted away in time, but still got cut in the side, but she didn't care about that. She ran over and tried to pick up the knife, but Rory pushed her to the ground and grabbed the knife, and stood above her, pointing it at her heart.  
"Rory, think." Amy panted, elbows propping her up. "You don't want to kill anyone. You're a healer. Not a killer."  
"You've hurt me in so many ways." Rory's voice didn't seem like his own, and Amy tried to scramble away, screaming as Rory stepped on her dress, making it impossible for her to move. Struggling to hit him, she waved wildly. Realising it was impossible, and she was just about to die, she sighed and set her head on the ground. It was only in the split second before his knife sliced into her back that she realized it wasn't Rory at all who was doing this to her-it was her cousin, who had always looked so much like Rory. She'd always bossed Oden around, and laughed at him quite a bit.  
"I'm so sorry!" she cried out as the knife sliced her again, this time on the back of her knee, slicing veins. "I'm sorry for everything!" she screamed, pounding her fists on the ground, clenching her leg muscles against the agony that filled her.  
Then the weight of Oden was thrown off her. Hearing John's voice fill the air made her giddy, but she couldn't get up, so she just rolled over so she could sit up, and watched John slam Oden against the gas tank. "I don't know who you are or why you're doing this, but you will NOT harm AMY!" John yelled, causing Oden to flinch.  
John threw Oden to the ground and grabbed the knife, and threw it far away, sending Oden scrambling after it in a desperate run.  
John hurried over to Amy and knelt down, took Amy in his arms, and began to run to a blue box near the far side of Amy's car, and ran inside. Closing the door with his back, he ran over to the seats near whatever the hell that thing was with all the buttons and switches and levers, and laid Amy down.  
Amy propped herself up on her elbows and stared around. It was bigger on the inside of the box, she noticed. It was surprising that it didn't really bother or surprise her.  
"I've got to get us out of here." John flew around the controls and switches, pressing and pulling and all kinds of things before he pressed a final button on a screen and the box jerked around, causing Amy to gasp as she felt the blood pour out of her wounds quicker. But as soon as the jerking started, it stopped.  
"Where are we?" Amy asked, staring at John, who was coming over. "Space." he replied, and picked her up again, carrying her like a bride up the stairs and down the hall, and into a white room with a comfy-looking white bed and different medical things. He set Amy face down on the bed, and Amy propped herself up on her elbows, grateful John had put her feet on the pillow side so she could look around.  
"It looks pretty bad." John's voice was slightly concentrated, and sounded half distracted. "I'm going to have to take a closer look and clean it before I can do anything.  
Amy put her head on her arms and closed her eyes, waiting for the pain as John lifted her dress above her waist, and pulled down her tights and put those somewhere she couldn't see, then felt him pull down her knickers just a tad so he could fully see her back and knee wounds. She winced as she felt a cold, painful liquid be poured on her knee and back, biting her lip at the sizzling. It must be hydrogen peroxide. She felt him wipe the stuff off with a warm washcloth once it was done bubbling.  
"The one on your back isn't bad, Amy. I can't exactly say the same about your knee. I'm going to have to bandage them both up, though. Knee first." Amy nodded, eyes still closed, at John's voice. She sighed, enjoying his touch. She felt him take her kneecap and lift it up a bit, so she complied and lifted her leg. He put gauze around her knee and up a bit onto her upper leg, then down a bit to her calf, tight at first, then looser until he stopped and taped it closed.  
"Alright, come here." He lifted her up a bit, under her arms, so she was sitting down on her bum. She held up her dress as John winded the gauze around her midriff, tight then loose, and he taped it up. He turned and put the roll of gauze on his metal table and turned back to Amy and offered her his arm. She took it, standing carefully. She soon figured she couldn't bend her knee, so she put barely any weight on that leg and walked with John back down to the control room.  
John set her on the seat, and took her hands in his, looking into her eyes. "Are you alright?"  
Amy nodded, smiling. "Of course. This makes it two times you've saved my life." John bowed his head and chuckled a bit. Amy removed her hands from his and took his face in them, and brought him down to her lips. They kissed for a while, softly, gently, nothing too rough.  
When their lips parted, they rested their foreheads on each other's and locked gazes.  
"I love you." John's words came out, surprising Amy…but not really. She smiled and kissed him again. "I love you too, John."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter four  
….it was all a dream?

After their tenth night together, Amy limped out into the kitchen and kissed John softly on the forehead and went over to pour herself some coffee. In the middle of doing it, she heard John speak.  
"I'm not John Smith."  
Amy turned and glanced at him. Yes, it was John at the table. She turned back and put the coffee maker away, reaching for the milk.  
"Course you are, honey."  
"I'm not. I've been lying to you. That's not my name."  
"I'm not going to leave you over a stupid name."  
The words that came out of his mouth next made her drop the milk, the white liquid spilling all over the floor. She whipped around and stared at him in horror.  
_ "I'm the Doctor."_  
"No." Amy whispered, and started shaking her head, gripping the wet counter behind her. "You're not the Doctor, you don't look like him."  
"I am." he sighed, putting his head in his hands. "I'm so, so sorry Amy."  
Everything blurred, and Amy realized something she hadn't noticed before.  
_I'm dreaming. Last time, with the DreamLord, we had to die in order to wake up. I should've known. Ms Buck isn't mean at all, she's one of my best mates!_ Slowly, Amy picked up a knife from the counter and pointed it at her heart. The Doctor's eyes widened, and he shot up, and ran towards her, screaming, "No!". She screamed as the cold blade sliced her most vital organ, the one that let her feel the love she felt. It was then she realized. She was dreaming, but he wasn't.

Gasping, Amy sat straight up from the cold glass floor of the Doctor's TARDIS. Standing up, she looked around for the cause of that dream, and she saw those golden specks of whatever the hell the Doctor had called them, and picked them up, and threw them out the door, hearing the Doctor and Rory waking up behind her.  
"Amelia! You weren't there with us." the Doctor's voice caused Amy to turn and face her boys. Shrugging, she kind of slowly waddled a bit, favoring her leg, wincing as she popped a bubble in between the knee joints.  
"Yeah, I kind of had my own dream. Guess I've got enough darkness and nightmares in my head to have my own thing now. Besides, no DreamLord." Amy smiled, a bit gratefully.  
Rory furrowed his brows, puzzled. "There was a DreamLord with us. Amy, are you alright?"  
"Sure!" Amy laughed, nervously glancing between the two. It was obvious neither of them believed her, even as she continued. "Why wouldn't I be? I'm always alright. I'm the queen of alright. Nah, forget that." Amy shot a smile at the Doctor saying those words, causing a slight chuckle escape the man's lips.  
The Doctor just stood there looking thoughtful, eyes resting on Amy, and Amy realized she was limping just a bit as she walked over and kissed Rory.  
It was then she realized the Doctor knew where she'd been.  
Because he'd been there.  
He'd fallen in love with her.  
And she with him.  
But not anymore.  
Rory was the love of her life.  
Not the Doctor.  
Never, ever the Doctor.  
John Smith?…perhaps.  
…but not in this life.

Amy was sitting on her bed, curled up and writing in her journal when a knock sounded at her door. Her head snapped up as she heard the Doctor whisper her name. Checking the clock, she raised her eyebrows as she saw the time turn from 11:59 to 12:00. Midnight.  
"Yeah, come in." she sighed, setting her journal down and watching the Doctor as he slipped in and closed her door behind him, leaning against it.  
They just stayed where they were, staring at each other like that.  
"I've got new memories, Pond." he was narrowing his eyes at her thoughtfully.  
"I know." Amy whispered, an inward sigh forming and going.  
"And new feelings. What's wrong with you?" he seemed angry all of a sudden, crossing his arms as he glared down at her.  
Amy glared straight back. "It's not my fault, Doctor. If you'd told me your name quicker we'd have been out of that dream world much, much faster."  
He raised his eyebrows, and she did hers, and they flew at each other hungrily, lips smashing together, hands rushing through each other's hair, feelings overwhelming them, desperation in his movements, and utter love in her's.  
After a minute or two, they broke apart. It just felt wrong. The passion was there, but not the body. It wasn't going to work with this Doctor.  
He kept his fingers in her hair, twirling it slightly, gazing at it, a faraway, lonely look in his eyes.  
Amy was leaning on her hand, sitting on her bed, enjoying the feeling of him twirling her hair.  
After what only seemed seconds, the Doctor stood and took Amy's hands. "I've got the perfect place in the TARDIS for now."  
They exited her room and the TARDIS was nice enough to put the room the Doctor was thinking of nearby, so they got there within seconds, and once they were inside, they felt the TARDIS move the room to the farthest reaches of the machine, where Rory would never find them. The Doctor squeezed Amy's hand as she surveyed the room, or rather, outside. It was dark, the stars absolutely gorgeous, shining down on the pair, along with grassy fields and pretty ponds and beautiful flowers. The Doctor led Amy to a particularly lush patch of grass and the two laid down on their backs, looking up at the stars, holding hands.  
After a while like this, they turned their heads and bodies to face each other and smiled.  
"Friends?" the Doctor asked.  
"Friends." Amy replied, closing her eyes and going in for one last kiss from her raggedy doctor. Their lips parted with a finality that they both felt in their hearts as well. The love between them had been short-lived, only ten dream days, and ten reality minutes, but it had been strong and productive.

(sorry it's a short chapter. I kind of wanted to get this part over with J consider it like a prequel to the next chapter…ish…well, actually, chapters are just prequels to the later chapters, and vice versa…)


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE  
Another chance

"NO!" he cried, leaping towards Amelia. The ginger screamed as the blade struck her heart, and the Doctor knelt down, tears forming in his eyes as he held his lover in his arms, only a few seconds before she faded forever from his grasp.  
"NO!" he shouted, slamming the floor with his fists. Seeing the knife laying where she had been, he grabbed it and slammed it against cabinets, the floor, the table, and the mug of coffee that Amelia had been preparing for herself.  
When the steaming brown liquid flew over the counter and soaked his pants, going through the fabric and running down his legs, he just stood there, letting it burn. He gritted his teeth against the pain, clenching his fists, his eyes pinched shut, trapping the tears.  
It was then he heard the phone ring. Running, hopefully, to the control room, he picked up the phone.  
"Hello?" his hearts were hopeful, then sank lower than the titanic when he heard Martha's voice."  
"Doctor? We've caught that murderer. Oden, he said. Oden Pond. Donna's here, she wants to talk to you."  
The Doctor sighed as Martha handed the phone over to Donna, white noise flooding his ear.  
"You just left in that stupid machine of yours, forgetting me! Again! Oi!" Donna's shout startled the Doctor out of his thoughts of Amelia. "Spaceman, you listen up. You come back here right now and get Martha and I home safely before you do anything else. Hear that, spaceman?"  
"Yeah. Bye." he snapped the phone shut and threw it to the floor, kicking it over the edge of the flooring.

_ …I don't know what it was, but it was quick and quite urgent that first night. We'd both just lived through a horrible experience, and John got some bad cuts and bruises. We were sitting down, watching telly, and I leaned over for the remote. Once I'd gotten comfortable, and we found a great show, he looked over at me, and I looked at him. He smiled, then I did, and we just flew at each other._  
_ That was the best night of my life._  
Amy sighed, biting her lip. Should she be writing it down? Rory might see it.  
Their door opened and Amy looked up, shutting her journal and smiled at her fiance. "Speak of the devil." she muttered, getting up to hug him, tightly. He seemed surprised, then squeezed her back.  
"Are you sure you're alright, Amy?" he whispered, burying his face in her hair. Amy smiled into his shoulder, and he kept quiet about it. They stood there for a while, and when they broke apart, Amy felt a finality. She knew in her heart what she had to do, she knew it so deeply it almost set her crying. She did love Rory, once. But a dream changed all of that. That, and a TimeLord. Her TimeLord.  
She smiled up at Rory, and realized that he knew. He knew her decision, and her heart lifted as she saw that he would support and help her. Squeezing his hand, she pecked him gently on the cheek.  
"Thank you." she murmured, leaning up to whisper in his ear. "I really did have the best of times with you, Rory. I'm never going to forget you."  
Rory pulled her into another hug. "I know, Amy. I do understand, I do. There's a huge difference between a simple nurse and a universal god. Plus, it's you. I'd do anything for you. You know that."  
They pulled apart, and Amy wiped away the single tear rolling down her cheek and nodded. "Yeah," she sniffed. "I do."

The Doctor was in the middle of deciding between his blue and red bowties when he heard footsteps descending down the stairs. Turning, he saw Amelia and Rory come down, hand in hand, a kind of sadness and joy in their eyes. It was obvious at once what had happened.  
"Are you alright, Rory?" he asked, waiting anxiously. When the blonde nodded, he turned back to his bowties, thinking once again about which color, but not before he remembered the conversation they'd had the previous hour.  
_ "She doesn't love you, she chose me."_  
_ "I'm sorry, Rory, but whatever happened in that dream of hers, she's coming onto me now."_  
_ "It's not fair."_  
_ "The thing is, it was a dream for her, but not for me."_  
_ "What?"_  
_ "I was there, Rory. In my previous body. Amy's fallen in love with previous me. And previous me kind of, sort of, fell in love with her too."_  
_ "But we're friends. You wouldn't do this to me."_  
_ "We're friends now. Not back then."_  
"Can I go home?"  
The voice which had asked surprised him out of his thoughts, making him turn and face Amelia.  
"I can't see you saying that, Pond." he narrowed his eyes at her a bit, trying to see the reason.  
"I can't do this anymore. I'm a bit tired of waiting, running down corridors, and everything like such. I just want to relax and go back to my house."  
The Doctor stared at his former lover, emotions twirling inside of him. "Pond, you can't."  
"Why not?" Amy's face was challenging, the sadness becoming greater and greater in abundance in her eyes.  
"You just can't!" the Doctor yelled, feeling absolutely horrible as she stepped back, surprised at his temper. They locked eyes, and he could see that Amy was losing her patience with him, but he could also see what she was thinking.  
"Fine." he sighed, turning back to his switches and flipping this and that, letting the TARDIS jerk back and forth, letting the seconds tick by before he saw the last of his red-haired lover.

Amy closed the door behind her. She had said her goodbyes, and made up her mind. Looking around, she saw the market and post office. The Doctor had dropped her off at the heart of the town, only two blocks from her house. Pocketing her phone, she started to walk home, down the streets of the place that she had once been truly a part of.  
Dogs barked and boys hooted as she turned down her street, sliding her hands into her pockets, and gripping her phone for support. It had been a while since she'd been around all these people, and the last time she had been, it was in a dream where they all hated her. Her head turned at the voice of Miss Buck, who was waving to her from weeding her garden. She waved back, smiling. Kathy turned back to her weeds, and Amy to walking back home.

_What if I just go to her house? She's got to be there. She was in a dream, maybe she'd remember it. Maybe she still feels what I do._ His thoughts were desperate, but kept him sane in the reality that he knew. The universe never helped or agreed with him, why would they let some Scottish girl in a small town he'd barely realized existed remember a silly dream?  
"Oi! I'm talking to you, spaceman!" As usual, Donna's shout made him jump, jerking him out of his thoughts, but this time her voice wasn't unkind. He turned to her and caught a whiff of the scent of molecules making up red hair, along with the smell of strawberry shampoo. He let his eyes linger on Donna's hair, but decided to listen. He didn't want to get punched.  
"Are you alright, Doctor?"  
"'Course." He returned, smiling brightly at her. She didn't look convinced, and her next words confirmed that suspicion.  
"I know that look, Doctor. You're not 'alright'. Now come on, tell me."  
"Nah. Really, it's fine."  
"Tell me, Doctor."  
He tried not to, he really did, but he just let it all pour out, internally grateful that Donna was listening with her _I'm listening and I'm going to do whatever I can to help, you silly martian_ face on.  
When he'd finished, Donna just stood there, hand under her chin, eyes closed in thought. After so much time had passed, the Doctor thought she'd fallen asleep, so while he was reaching over to shake her awake, her eyes went wide open, and he jumped back, startled. He'd been a bit jumpier ever since Amy had stabbed herself.  
"Go to her house. She's got to be there. It's worth a shot." Donna nodded her head towards the rotor. "Let's go."  
He broke out in a big smile and said, with a loud shout that made Donna jump, "ALLONS-Y!"

She was wiping away the last of her tears when she heard it. Jumping down the stairs, taking them three at a time, she raced out the door and skidded to a halt straight in front of the TARDIS. With a huge smile, (and jitters), the realisation hit her that it wasn't her Raggedy Man's TARDIS, with its St John sticker, and its extremely new-looking varnish and sheen. It was John's.

He couldn't move. It surprised him. He was here, the scanner showed her outside, looking extremely excited, but he couldn't move. He could only look into the face of his beloved.  
But then he found the energy.

The door swung open, and Amy grinned as John looked out at her, panting, then an absolutely joyful smile showed on his face as he rushed forwards and hugged her tightly. She returned it, of course.

Little did that happy couple know what was to come, the face of the greatest horror alive, the one thing that could tear them apart with ease.

** ( author's notes: )**  
** Hey everyone! I decided to upload 3 chappies today to make up for the really short one J I'm going to be updating every 2-4 days.**  
** [meanwhile, guess who shows up in the next chapter! Here's a couple of clues for you: she's brunette, flirty, and very, very scattered ;) ]**


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX  
The impossible girl.

"Well, she's gone now." the voice was very vague, in the background.  
"Yes," he said, absentmindedly. Amelia Pond's Raggedy Man was sitting on his stairs, staring down at the floor, waiting as all new memories flooded in, exploring them. There was something wrong, though. Something terribly, terribly wrong. Shuddering, he pushed it back into the depths of his mind and stood up, straightening his bowtie. "Right! Well, we've got the TARDIS all to ourselves then, Mr. Pond."  
"Wait, what?" Rory's voice filled the air, and the Doctor turned, furrowing his brows. "Something's wrong here, Rory. This isn't supposed to be happening. Amy and I have done something so terribly, terribly wrong. I don't quite know it yet."  
Rory shrugged. "Does it matter? She's gone, you're dead-"  
The Doctor shot a swift glare at him, and Rory quickly corrected himself.  
"Your past self, Doctor. Not this one."  
"Good save, mate." The Doctor was about to flip the switch that would take them away from leadworth when the door opened. Looking past the rotor, the face that stared around wasn't Amy's, but it was vaguely familiar. Just vaguely.  
"Kathy?" Rory's voice made it to the Doctor's ears, sending the TimeLord forward to question this 'Kathy'.  
"Oh my stars…" Kathy's voice was breathless. "It's smaller on the outside."  
The Doctor raised his eyebrows. _That was new._  
"Which means," Kathy looked at Rory, then looked at the Doctor, recognition flaring in her eyes. "You're the Doctor."  
"What?" he leaned forwards, narrowing his eyes. How did this woman know him? Unless Amy had told her?"  
"Did Amy-"  
"No." Kathy interrupted Rory.  
"But, Kathy-" Rory's voice seemed a tad urgent.  
"Name's not Kathy, Rory. No. I was sent here by Torchwood. Something's wrong with the timelines, and it all converged here. I was sent to put it right."  
"Then who are you? I mean," at the woman's raised eyebrow, Rory fixed his mistake. She'd already told them who she was..not what her name was. "What's your name?"  
The woman held out a piece of paper, and the Doctor and Rory leaned forward to read it.  
_ Oswin Oswald, Junior Entertainment Program, Starship Alaska_  
"Oswin Oswald. Not ba-"  
"Oh drat." the woman interjected, interrupting the Doctor. "Sorry, wrong paper. That was for something else." She held out another paper, and this time Rory read it aloud. "Clara Oswin Oswald, Victorian Governess to the-"  
"I need to get rid of all these damn papers!" the woman growled, throwing the paper down and grabbing a wad of papers and cards from her pocket, going through quite a few of them, throwing them on the floor, until she reached her Torchwood employment badge. She held it out. "This is the right one."  
"Clara Oswald, Manager of-" at that, Clara snapped the badge shut before they could read the rest. Pulling out a walkie-talkie, she clicked it on. "Martha, are you there? Over."  
The Doctor's eyebrows went up at the name. "Martha? Martha Jones?"  
Clara nodded. "Yes. She and two others are the CEO's of Torchwood."  
"Who?"  
"Mrs Tyler, Mrs Jones, and Mrs Noble."  
"Rose, Martha and Donna." he whispered to himself, turning to the controls, twiddling with one or two, thinking.  
"Rose is supposed to be stuck in a different universe, and Donna's supposed to explode if she remembers." rubbing his face and realizing how tired he was, he turned and faced Clara, who was picking up all her papers.  
"Who are you?"  
"You know who I am." Clara shot a glare at the Doctor.  
"Yes, but everyone at Torchwood knows me, everyone's met me, I've met them. I've approved of them. They run applicants by me before they accept or not."  
"Guess I was good enough."  
"You're impossible." he narrowed his eyes at her, putting his hands on his hips. "Absolutely impossible. These timelines must seriously be scrambled."  
"Nah, not really." Clara's voice was cheerful, although very badly faked. "I'm the only one they accepted without you. That's what everyone calls me, back at headquarters. The Impossible Girl. Apparently my file says I've lived millions upon millions of lives. All for you. So they had to let me in."  
The Doctor was just plumb _baffled_ now, feet tapping, hands wringing, face distorting to at least forty different confused looks. Rory and Clara could practically see the gears grinding in his brain, gears that needed to be oiled to work correctly. Gears that hadn't been oiled in such a very long time.  
And that all looked hysterically funny, so Clara and Rory gave in to their inner temptations and burst out laughing at the Doctor.

The trio walked into the tall building, greeted by the receptionist.  
"Mornin', Clara dear." Mrs Oldham was like a grandmother to everyone in Torchwood, and was always kind and full of great advice.  
"Good Morning, Mrs Oldham." Clara dipped her head at the woman showing respect. The Doctor and Rory both bowed slightly to the old woman, before the three set off to go find the co-leaders.  
"Mrs. Noble's office is the nearest. She's in charge of Technical Issues. Mrs. Tyler's is next, and she deals with the Alien and Oddities department. Mrs. Joneses is the last office we'll be by. She's usually the busiest. She manages with the Actions and Weapons department." Clara glanced back at the two men, who looked like they were listening intently. Turning back, she continued. "And Ms Smith is the woman who tells the press the lies and cover stories she makes up to conceal our corporation. Cap'n Harkness and Mr Smith are Security Officers. They're in charge of keeping everyone here safe, and are usually on the front line in battle. "  
"And what about everyone else?" The Doctor asked, narrowing his eyes at a couple of people who were walking past, old, familiar faces.  
"They're the employees, the people who work in those departments."  
"Ah." The Doctor was silent for the rest of the walk up to Mrs Noble's office. They walked in without knocking, and came upon Donna Noble fixing a computer's who-knows-what.  
The ginger looked up and saw the two men behind Clara and narrowed her eyes just a bit. Turning to the Doctor, she smiled. "If I wasn't a Time person myself, I'd have thought the other guy was the Doctor."  
The man with the tweed jacket and bowtie stepped forward, smiling as he outstretched his hand. Donna took it and shook it professionally, then stepped around the desk and enveloped the man in a huge Donna Noble hug. He hugged her back, but she pulled away quickly and raised her eyebrows.  
"If I thought the former you was skinny enough to get a paper cut from hugging you, you're even thinner now. Do you even eat?" she looked up into his eyes and put her hands on her hips. "You need to eat heartily, young man."  
At the Doctor's slightly reddened face, Rory stood forward and cleared his throat. "I'm Ro-"  
"Rory Williams, husband of Amelia Pond, one of two causes of the ripped timelines." Donna said, turning back to Clara and taking the files the woman held.  
"Thank you, Ms Oswald. Jack and Mickey'll be wondering where you are. You'd best go off and join them."  
"Yes, Ma'am." Clara turned and left. Walking down the hall, she checked her watch and turned around, looking to see if anyone was there to see her, and took out her knife, and gave it to the woman standing in front of her.

"The Doctor has entered the building, Rose." Martha came into Mrs Tyler's office, holding the knife that Clara had given her and held it out to Rose.  
"What's this for?" Rose looked up from her computer and stared at the sharp blade. Taking it, she examined the polished metal. It looked quite strong, and was covered with a sort of shiny poison.  
"It's the knife we must use to repair the timelines with. It has been dipped in the most deadly poison in the universe." Martha replied, wiping her hands on her apron.  
"But that means-" Rose stared up at Martha, disbelief in her eyes. Martha nodded.  
"And this is what we must use?"  
"I'm afraid so.

**NEXT CHAPTER UP TOMORROW! YAY! :D I LOVE IT TO BITS**

**Anyways, the story's going to take a seriously awesome turn. The ending is NOT going to be what you think. ;)**


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7  
Timelines Restored, the end of the Ponds

It all happened so, so quickly. He couldn't even remember-and he was the universe's oldest time traveler! He thought it had something to do, however, with the red-headed woman kissing her fiancé across the room while the bowtied man fiddled with a few buttons and things. Something to do with that woman and himself, yes. And… he reached into his pocket, past his sonic screwdriver and pulled out a knife, concealing it with his hand. Something to do with this knife. And the thin poison covering the blade.

"Take this." Rose Tyler pressed the knife into the Doctor's hands.  
"Doctor! Be safe!" a black woman outburst from the corner, smiling at him.  
"Um, tha-"  
"Doctor, I'll be taking you and Rory to the TARDIS, along with Mickey and Jack."  
"Clara, that's not really fine with m-'  
"Shut up, Doctor." the blonde woman who'd spoken first, and handed him the object he held in his hand took his lapels, pulled him near, and kissed him hotly on the mouth before letting him go, smoothing down his coat before pushing him out the door. The Doctor was still trying to regain his confidence and stance, but instead of his old friends helping him, they seemed to care much more about the business of his previous life and the fact that timelines were scrambled. His current self didn't matter, apparently, only his previous self and Amelia Pond.

As Clara led the way back to the TARDIS, she looked behind her for a quick glance at the others. The Doctor and Rory were behind her, Mickey and Jack on either side of them, looking around. The Doctor was checking out the knife. Recognizing it, she paused until he almost bumped into her and took his wrist in her grip, pulling him up to the space right next to her as they continued walking.  
"That knife is to be protected at all costs, and be kept secret. Put it away, or I will have to force you to, Doctor. This is no time to be marveling over powerful blades." she whispered, glancing around to make sure no-one had heard.  
Thankfully, the TimeLord listened and tucked the knife away into his inside pocket, falling back to Rory's side.  
Taking a deep breath of relief, Clara found the TARDIS closer than she'd thought it'd been, and the five entered the little blue box. Immediately the cloud lifted from the Doctor and he ran over to his controls, literally dancing with joy.  
"Doctor." Jack smiled at him, winked, and left to stand guard outside the TARDIS. With a small wave and a tight smile, Mickey followed Jack, closing the door behind them. Rory went over to sit on the stairs and put his hands on his face, sighing. Clara walked over to the Doctor and snapped her fingers in his face, jerking him back to reality from his little happy dance.  
"Doctor, what I'm about to tell you is extremely secret and you have to follow my every word, because if you don't, this universe will collapse and die."  
Apparently she'd chosen the right words, because the man turned to her almost a millisecond after she'd said the last word and listened intently.  
"That knife must be with you at all times. Rory has to be in here if you have the knife, you must be in here if he has it. Whoever has the knife has the power to cut across their timelines without any drastic consequences. You can imagine what horrors could be done with that knife."  
"That's why you had me hide it."  
"Exactly, Doctor. Now, listen. You're going to have to go back in time to exactly four hours before you fell asleep from the psychic pollen. You've got to warn the past you from that exact moment what will happen to Amelia if you don't do the following. You've got to put the image of a pregnant Amelia in Amy's head, along with the image of Rory. According to our research, she'll fall into the same dream as Rory, who will fall into the same one as you, resulting in the timeline that should've happened. Understand?"  
The Doctor nodded, giving the woman a salute. Squirming under Clara's swift glare, he relaxed as she turned and left the TARDIS. He turned to the controls, taking a deep breath and letting it out, only to jump in complete, genuine fear as the door opened and Clara's voice rang into the TARDIS unexpectedly.  
"And do it now."

Amy and Rory had been gone to bed for a couple of hours when the Doctor found himself pacing in his bedroom, hands wringing.  
He remembered what his future self had told him. He'd given him a strange knife, and Future him faded from his eyes, along with the TARDIS that had parked in his bedroom. He only had about five minutes left before they all succumbed to the psychic pollen. He was still agonizing over forcing pictures in Amelia's head. Should he trust his future self?  
The question solved itself almost immediately as he found himself bounding down the hallway to the control room. Taking the stairs three at a time, he skidded to a halt in front of his controls and switches. Flipping and pulling, he gritted his teeth in frustration. The TARDIS was going to have to cooperate in order for him to do this.  
Silently begging, he stroked the console and kissed the rotor, leaning his forehead against the warm, humming glass. After a minute or two, he felt the TARDIS acceptance of what she must do, and he took a deep breath of relief as she planted the pictures in Amelia's sleeping mind.  
"Thank you." he whispered, holding on desperately to the screen's handle as he started to collapse. Taking one last glance around, he succumbed to the pollen and fell onto the cold, hard ground.

Everything was in a blaze from the point where Rory died and Amelia forgot him to the point where the Doctor was standing, sobbing the wake of what was happening. Reflecting back on what had happened to them during the ten years they'd been together.  
"Raggedy Man," Amelia sobbed, her breaths racking her whole body as she faced the stone-cold angel in front of her.  
The Doctor shuddered, knowing what was coming next.  
The red-headed woman he'd grown to love as his best friend turned to face him, eyes peering into his, sobs choking her next words; "Goodbye."  
She faded, and he cried.

"Amelia?"  
Amy turned, realizing she was back in 1938 again, and saw Rory standing there, his eyes red.  
"Rory!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissed him on the mouth, their tears mingling as they hugged and cried.  
"Damn." Rory mumbled in a breathing break between their kisses. Amy's eyes flickered open and she looked at him confused. He sounded a bit disappointed.  
"What's wrong?"  
"I'm going to have to pass my nurse's exams again." Rory smiled, and Amy laughed, throwing her head back as she wiped away the tears.  
"Is the Doctor coming back?" Rory asked Amy, raising his eyebrows expectantly.  
"No. We'll never be able to see him again, fixed points and all."  
"You chose me over him?" Rory's voice was surprised, and he winced as he felt her whack him.  
"I died for you, stupid-face. Do you really think I wouldn't sacrifice my best friend for my husband?"  
Rory shrugged. She glared at him and he brightened up, smiling. At the laughter in his eyes, she realized he'd been joking around, and she laughed, one hand holding his, the other in her pocket.  
"I love you." she murmured, squeezing his hand as they began to walk into their new lives.  
"I love you too, Amelia Pond," Rory turned and smiled at her.

Madame Vastra and Jenny were sitting on the bridge above where the two lovebirds were walking, looking down at them.  
Jenny turned to her wife and furrowed her brows in questioning. Vastra smiled at her and looked back down at the two. "These are the Doctor's two greatest friends, the losses he suffered, along with his wife, before he met Clara. You've met them once before."  
"Yes, I know, Madame." Jenny bit her lip and looked back down. "But there's only one thing I'm wondering. Why are we here?"  
"I wanted to see if my suspicions are correct."  
"What suspicions?"  
"That there is an even greater love in the universe that will come about once again, a love that could rule the worlds and save and tear down planets. A love that is set against the universe itself."  
"And are your suspicions right?"  
Madame Vastra turned to Jenny, a grave look in the reptile's eye. "I'm afraid so.


End file.
